blue ; gallavich

30

Ian's eyes dart all around the room, his chest unevenly heaving up and down with unsteady breaths. The red head taps his fingers to an internal beat, trying desperately to steady his vision and calm his breathing. He can't, and I can tell by the way his arm quivers. It does that when he's under pressure or extremely nervous. When he broke into my room- the first time we fucked- and I almost bashed his head in with a tire iron- I noticed his whole right side shaking. Of course I didn't say shit, i was too scared that he'd notice my boner. Not that it would've mattered since we fucked anyways.

If I told my past self that I'm here right now, still in love with Ian Gallagher after a past of struggles and devastation, that I came out to Terry, that I eventually stopped taking shit from Terry, that Terry tried to kill Ian and I'm here to support Ian, that I hate Terry with this much force, I would've beat the shit out of my older self. Then, I would've fantasized about it and believed that it was true but would make no effort to try and fall in love with Ian, and I definitely would refuse with all of my strength to man up to my father. It's crazy how people and things can change over the course of time so drastically, whether for the good or the bad.

Mandy leans over to me, breaking my train of thought, and whispers, "I don't think Terry's coming." I expect a cliche enterance, Terry bursting through the door in handcuffs, but nothing happens. Instead, her comment is followed by shared looks between me, Ian, and the door.

The door squeaks open, but still no Terry. Iggy runs through, the dumbass hopping over the benches to sit next to me.

"Did you forget that you're in a fucking court?" Mandy hisses as I roll my eyes at my idiotic brother's recklessness.

"It's not like I shot anyone!" Iggy throws his hands up in defense, his eyes widening with confusion.

"Yes you did, dumbass. You shot Terry." I remind him as he sighs in annoyance.

"Okay, well I'm not getting tried for it, am I?" He asks, a childish tone in his voice as if to taunt me. "No, I'm not. So stop treating me like the bad guy."

"Shut up, Igs." Ian scolds as a judge enters the room, a stern expression on his face. He plops down in his seat and I realize that this is my judge, the one who sent me to prison. Only this time Terry's getting arrested, not me, and with my last name there's a good chance he'll be in prison for attempted murder in the third degree. At least, I hope he will.

"Court to order." The judge groans as he slams the hardwood gavel onto a wooden slab. "Will the Bailiff please rise?"

"Present, your honor." A bald man says, another man typing away at his computer.

"The Court of the Second Judicial Circuit,  Criminal Division, is now in session, the Honorable Judge Castroson presiding. Everyone but the Jury may be seated." The judge directs as we all sit back down.

Ian looks back at me, the judge continuing to set direction for the jury, and I lean forward to grab his hand. Caught by surprise, Ian looks back at me, his eyes a rushing river of worry. I squeeze his palm and bring it up to my mouth to kiss it, and he shoots an anxious and definitely forced smile my way.

"Hey." Iggy leans over and whispers to me. "Don't be worried about winning the case. If Terry won then we'd know somebody would've rigged the system." He scoffs under his breath, probably in annoyance that he has to be here again.

"The chance of Terry winning this case is as likely as Maria becoming a good mother and Terry not being a piece of shit." I groan as Iggy lightly chuckles under his breath. It's been a while since I've heard him laugh, and it brings a small smirk to my lips.

"It's as likely as our lives not being a shit show." Iggy replies as I snort, trying to consume my laughter at the absurdity of that ever happening.